Global Haiku • Spring 2014
Dr. Randy Brooks

by
Austin Evans

In this collection, entitled “Hollow Eyes,” I gathered together some of my best haiku—many written from my experiences traveling out of state with my folk punk band. Being on the road most weekends and attending college full-time, I experienced a lot of weariness and often lost my sense of home. Many of these haiku reflect this, while others capture moments when I did feel at home or at peace. Both these moments of feeling lonely and feeling loved are something everyone can relate to, which is one of the reasons I found writing about them so enjoyable.

railroad tracks
my old pickup
stalls

icicles
tiny teeth
on the wrought iron fence

la cucaracha
not as playful
as the song

snow day
under their blankets
the cars sleep in

dusty record player
hums a sweet melody
playing to the beat of the rain

black semicircles
under hollow eyes
elusive sleep

three teeth missing
piano
keys

4 am
cuddling
the empty whiskey bottle

the bassist slaps his lifeless lover

saints and sinners
pasts and futures
she can’t quite recall the quote

sitting on the rooftop
best friends
and beer cans

10 dollar cigar
in the ashtray
my ash Wednesday

shaving my beard
for the first time in months
foreign reflection

autumn chill—
her stealing
my favorite sweatshirt

tattered sneakers
finally worn
through the sole